


I See London, I See Sam's Town

by Chash



Series: Miss Atomic Bomb [21]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce, Tricksters - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five moments in the life of Aly Cooper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See London, I See Sam's Town

.one.

"You aren't even a little worried they're going to grow up to be alcoholics?" Numair asks. He's bouncing Alan on his lap; Aly is crawling on the bar under George's watchful eye.

"It's not like we're putting rum in their bottles," says Alanna, rolling her eyes. "Give us a little credit here."

"Yeah, come on, Numair," George says. Aly reaches for the taps, and George helps her pour a Guinness. "We'd do vodka and kahlua. If our kids are gonna be alcoholics, they're gonna have good drinks."

"Of course," Numair says. "I can't believe I doubted you."

Aly leans towards the mug of beer and George scoops her up easily. "We'll start you off on somethin' light, darlin'," he tells her. "Guinness is pretty rich, you'd upset your stomach."

"Some people really are meant to be parents, aren't they?" Numair asks, smiling at Alanna.

Her returning smile is a little wistful. "Yeah. It's a good thing he is, because I'm definitely not."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." George leans over and kisses her temple, and then hands her Aly. Alanna's gotten better at holding her, but it's still not natural. Aly screws up her face, about to cry until George reaches over and gives her his finger to tug on.

"You're right, I'm clearly just as good at this as you are," she says dryly. "It's cool. I have other talents."

"I'm the one bringing our toddlers to a bar all the time," George points out. "It's gonna be both our faults when they're homeless alcoholics."

"Well," says Numair, smiling. "So long as you're prepared."

 

.two.

"Aly got in trouble!" Alan calls, as soon as he spots George at the bus stop. "Aly got in trouble!"

"No I didn't!" says Aly, scowling at her brother. "I didn't do anything!"

"Ms. Miller sent a note home," says Alan.

"Did she now?" asks George, swinging Aly up onto his shoulders. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Aly says, petulant.

"Do you have a note from Ms. Miller?"

"Yeah, but she said I didn't do anything wrong."

"Let me see the note."

She digs around and hands over a piece of paper. George reads it aloud; it's Aly's note, she deserves to know what it says. " _Dear Mr. and Mrs. Cooper_ \--" He makes a face. "She's a Ms, she could at least not assume your ma isn't."

"What's a Ms?" asks Aly.

"Used to be when you talked about a woman, you'd call her Miss if she wasn't married and Missus if she was," George explains. "But you call a man Mister either way, so it didn't seem real fair to some women. So you can use Ms, and that's for married and unmarried women."

"So I'm Ms. Cooper too?"

"You are." He looks back at the letter. "Anyway. _I understand you own a bar, but I would prefer if you did not send your daughter to school wearing clothing that promotes alcohol. I'm sure you'll see why this is a problem. If she comes in wearing another shirt like this, I'll have no choice but to send her home_." He cranes his head around to look at Aly. "What shirt are you wearin'?"

"One of yours," she says, tugging the hem. It's, in fact, a promotional shirt that came free with some bourbon he bought last year. It's really comfortable; Aly loves it. "I like wearin' your shirts."

George has to stifle a laugh. "I know you do, sweetheart. But we're gonna have to check which ones are okay for school before you go in. You can still wear that at home."

"Can I wear the Dancing Dove shirts?" she asks. "Does that--" she screws up her face, trying to remember. "'Mote alcohol?"

"I think those should be okay," he assures her. "If those kids know what the Dove is, that's on their parents, not on you."

"You let our daughter go to kindergarten wearing a _bourbon shirt_?" Alanna asks when he tells her. She can't stop laughing.

"Anything they do before nine a.m. is on you," George says. "Did I put that in our weddin' vows? I should have put that in our weddin' vows."

"You're right, I should be the one keeping our five-year-old daughter from going out in _your_ bourbon shirts."

"I like that it smells like da," says Aly brightly.

"That's also what she's going to say about dudes who smell like cheap whiskey," Alanna says, just as brightly.

"How dare you," says George. "I smell like classy whiskey. Don't sell me short here."

 

.three.

There's no good time to tell your parents you're not planning to go to college; Aly figures it's a band-aid she should just rip off. Alan's decided he's applying early-decision, and when Ma asks her if she has any ideas where she wants to go, she says, "I don't want to go to college."

There's a very long pause, and Ma blinks rapidly, like if she waits long enough Aly will say she's kidding.

Finally, when it's clear she's not, Ma says, "Excuse me?" Her voice is dangerous.

"I don't want to go to college. I don't think there's any point."

"No _point_?"

"As soon as I turn eighteen, I'm going to start working at the Dove."

"You are not."

"Why not?" Aly asks, defiant.

"Because--you're going to college!"

"That's not an argument!"

"And yours is?"

Aly counts off points on her fingers. "I don't want to go. I don't need a college education to own a bar, and that's what I want to do. And it's incredibly expensive, so it's also a huge waste of money."

"You can still be a bartender after college if you really want to," her mother says, making a face like she smells something rotten.

"I can still go to college later if I don't like bartending."

"A college education is--"

"Da didn't go to college, he turned out just fine."

"Your father wishes he went to college!"

"Just because _you_ made him feel like he wasn't good enough!"

She knows it's a mistake as soon as she says it. Ma's eyes flash dangerously, and Aly's afraid, for the first time, of her mother's famous temper. She and Ma have had their differences--sometimes it feels like they have nothing _but_ differences--but Aly's never been frightened of her before.

Ma takes a few slow, deep breaths, and then stands and walks out of the room, hands clenched into fists.

"That went well," says Alan dryly.

"Shut up."

Da finds her after his shift. She's chatting with Nawat online, but at the soft knock, she signs off and straightens up, trying to look innocent and responsible. He sits down next to her on the bed, running his hand through his hair. "Hi," he says.

"Hi," she says, soft.

They sit in silence for a minute, and then Da says, "You couldn't have started this conversation with me? Had to pick a fight with Ma right off?"

"It wouldn't have been a fight with you?"

"I agree with your ma," he says carefully. "I think you should go to college. But you and I never fight like you and Ma fight. I could have run interference."

That's certainly true. "I thought I'd just get the worst of it over with right away," she says.

"You did at that." He puts his arm around her, and she leans into it. "She was mad enough about your hair," he notes, tugging on a green strand.

"She said it was better than the blue. Brings out my eyes."

Da smiles at that. "Only took her forty-five years to start looking on the bright side."

"How pissed is she?"

"It was pretty unfair, what you said to her," he says, sobering. "She's never in her life made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Not ever, not for any reason. And she hates when people act like I don't deserve her."

"I know."

"I know." He squeezes her shoulders. "I know you were both angry. But she's always loved the Dove as much as I do."

"I love it too," she says.

"I know. But--Aly. You could do anything, darlin'."

"What if this is what I want to do?" she asks. "It's what you wanted to do."

"It's not," says Da. "I fell into this. Turns out I'm good at it and I like it, but I wish I'd had more choices. I wasn't real competitive for a lot of jobs, and I regretted that."

"I don't want to be in politics or anything like that. I don't even know what I'd study if I went to college. I know what I want to do right now, so why should you guys spend a fortune on me doing something else?"

Da sighs and leans back. "Here's what I'm offering."

"There's an offer?"

"I'm not hiring you at the Dove. Not out of spite, mind, but unless someone quits by the time you graduate, I'm not looking for new blood. I've got a good team and I like them. But--you apply to colleges." She opens her mouth and he holds up his finger. "You apply, and you can defer a year wherever you want. Plenty of people take gap years. You can take a gap year, get a job at a bar if you want. And if, after a year, you're doing what you want to do, you can keep on doing it. We won't stop you. But if it turns out that's not what you want, or if you haven't gotten a job that supports you by the end of the year, you'll have college to fall back on."

It's a better deal than she expected. "Sure," she says. "Fine. Yes." She gives him a speculative look. "Ma agreed to this?"

"She did. But you do owe her an apology."

"I know."

"And I think you should go to college. There are still going to be bars after college."

"Your feedback is noted."

Da shakes his head. "Numair'll never let us hear the end of us. He told me I'd regret raising you in a bar."

She smiles a little. "But you still don't."

He smiles back; no one understands her like her da does. "No. I've got no regrets."

 

.four.

Aly's first thought is that the guy is too young to be in Balitang, which she later figures should have been a warning sign. Da thought the same thing the first time he met Ma. It's obviously hereditary.

The guy is talk and lanky, like he hasn't quite grown into his limbs yet. He has black hair and dark eyes and a nice smile, white teeth flashing against his tan skin. Whatever ID he has got him past the bouncer, so Aly doesn't argue when he orders a beer, just slides it across the bar to him. She's expecting him to wander off, start socializing like everyone else in the club, but he leans against the bar instead, staying close.

"First time?" she offers. He's smiling at her still, and she feels weird just ignoring him.

"I just moved to New York," he says, nodding. He's got an accent she can't place, but it suits his voice. "Everything's the first time. And it's--weird."

"Weird how?"

"It doesn't feel like a real place."

That makes her laugh. "Why not?"

"Because I've seen it so much in TV and movies. I feel like I'm walking through movie sets any time I go to a famous place. I can't believe I live here."

She knows what he means. She's been here since she graduated from high school three years ago, but it still feels surreal sometimes, like this can't really be her life. Or maybe she just feels like Times Square isn't a real place. She's pretty sure she's right about that. "Where are you from?"

"The Philippines."

"And what brings you here?"

"Officially, I'm studying abroad."

She laughs. "And unofficially?"

He leans in, like he's sharing a secret. She's a little charmed, in spite of herself. "Unofficially, there's a girl."

She leans in too, grinning. "A girl?"

He nods. "We met online. She lives here, so I want to live here too. Officially it's just a year, but I'm not planning on going back."

"But she's not coming out with you tonight?"

"She's meeting me later," he says. "I'm a little nervous. I'm not sure I'm what she was hoping for."

"You haven't exchanged pictures?" she asks. She has plenty of online friends she's never seen, but she figures not everyone's like that.

He shakes his head. "I've seen some of her, but I don't post pictures of myself."

"Well, you're cute," Aly says easily. He lights up at that, which is annoying, given he's waiting for his date, but whatever. "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"I hope so," he says, ducking his head.

"When's she meeting you?"

"Soon."

A couple of guys come over to flirt and get refills and Aly goes over to flirt back. She's aware of the Filipino boy watching her and it makes her feel itchy, like she's missing something. She hates that feeling.

"What?" she says, when she goes back to him.

"Hm?"

"You look like you want to say something. It's cool, I get that look a lot. People like confessing to their bartenders. Is this a mail-order bride thing? Or, you know, groom. It's okay, you can tell me."

"I just was thinking that I hadn't introduced myself." At her blank look, he continues, "It's rude."

"Well, I was being rude too then," she says. She extends her hand. "I'm Aly."

He stares at her hand, licks his lips, and then deliberately looks back up to meet her eyes. "I know. I'm Nawat."

Aly freezes, hand stuck in the air, face stuck in a rigid smile. If he hadn't been so purposeful, she wouldn't believe it. It would be a coincidence, or a joke Sarai was playing on her. Anything but-- _Nawat_.

They met online in an MMO when she was in middle school; they've been friends for years. She knew he was Filipino and in college, but he never said a thing about coming to New York. But he knew where she worked, he wouldn't have had any trouble finding her once he got here. And he's been busy recently, not online much. Now she knows why.

"I did say I was meeting her soon," he said. He's a little flushed.

"Nawat," she says, slow.

"Aly."

"You moved to New York."

He doesn't look away from her. "You're in New York. You like New York. You said you were planning to stay here."

She licks her lips, but her mouth is still dry. It's _Nawat_ , and he's here, tall and beautiful, with a perfect smile. And he came most of the way across the world. For her. "I am."

He nods. "I got tired of not seeing you," he says, overly casual, like this isn't a big deal at all. He rubs the back of his neck, and she realizes all at once that she hasn't been happy yet, so she ducks out from behind the bar to throw her arms around him. He catches her and pulls her close, sliding one big hand into her hair. He smells like autumn air, a little hint of frost, but he's so _warm_.

"Hi, Nawat."

"Hi, Aly. I like your hair."

It's purple right now; Da thinks it's a sign she and Ma aren't fighting anymore. He might be right. They talked on the phone and the conversation ended with both of them saying goodbye like human beings instead of either of them hanging up in a rage. Maybe she's growing up.

"I like yours too," she says, ruffling it. It's thick and soft and perfect.

He lets her go slowly, giving her the most blinding smile she's ever seen.

It really must be hereditary; Ma's always loved Da's smile, too.

 

.five.

"You're nervous," says Nawat. He's sitting on the bar next to Dove, who's doing something on the computer. Probably promoting the club. She's the best business manager ever.

"I'm not nervous."

"We've been open for a week," Dove says, not looking up. "We're doing very well."

"She's nervous because her mother is coming," Nawat says, in a stage whisper.

"I can break up with you," Aly says.

"You could, I guess," he says. "You aren't going to, but you could."

"You're doing very well," Dove says. "You're twenty-eight and starting your own business. Your parents should be proud of you."

"You would think so," Aly mutters darkly. "My mother's never been proud of anything I've ever done. You should have seen her when I said I wasn't going to go to college. She was sure one year in the real world was going to convince me I didn't want to be a bartender for my whole life."

"I remember," says Nawat, smiling. "And the argument you had with her when you said you didn't want to go in the first place. But they're coming out to see your new club. That's a good sign, right?"

"Yes, you know your night club has truly arrived when former cabinet members in their fifties start showing up," Dove remarks dryly. "They're on the cutting edge of what's hip."

The door opens before Aly can reply, and there are her parents. They're gray-haired and tired-looking, but Da still lifts her up and twirls her around like she's still a kid.

"Hey, darlin'," he says. "It looks awesome in here. Great location." He smiles in the direction of the bar. "Hey Dove, hey Nawat."

Ma is more reserved, as always. She lingers by the door, looking at the entryway, like it's not the most boring part of the entire joint. Da goes to check out the booze selection, so Aly drifts over to her mother. She can't help it. She knows Da's proud.

Alanna's smile is almost shy, but genuine. "This is really nice," she says. "Really."

A few years ago, Aly would have thought she was trying too hard, saying too much because she really hates it. But she finally figured out that Ma tries too hard because she's worried that she'll screw something up. She tries too hard because she wants to make sure Aly knows she's trying, and she's afraid anything less will come off as dismissive.

Ma's bad at this, but she's trying. She means it.

"Thanks," she says, smiling. "We worked really hard to get it together."

"I can tell. It's--nice."

Aly puts her arm around her mother's shoulders and squeezes. "I believe you, Ma. I'm glad you guys could come out."

Alanna looks relieved. "I'm glad we could come too. It was hard to pry your father away from his bar, but he was proud enough that you started your own that I could talk him into it. And Rikash promised that if he burned down the Dove for the insurance money, we'd get half."

"Isn't the policy in your name?"

"Yeah, I figured I wouldn't point that out to him. Then if he burns the place down, we can just keep all the money, and he can do the time."

Aly laughs. "Well, so long as you've got a plan, I guess." She glances back over and sees Da pouring shots. "Da! It's four o'clock. Are you getting my boyfriend drunk?"

"It's easier to intimidate him when he's drunk!" says George.

"We're friends!" says Nawat. "We're bonding!"

"You open when?" Alanna asks.

"Nine."

"So that's five hours to get wasted with your parents and sober up before customers come in." Ma grins. "That's totally doable, right?"

Aly laughs and bumps her shoulder against her mother's. It took them long enough, but they got here. "Totally."


End file.
